


Tears When They Dry

by I_AM_THE_LIVING_DEAD



Category: Boku no Hero Academia | My Hero Academia
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Implied Sexual Abuse, M/M, Past Abuse, implied alcoholism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-12
Updated: 2019-12-12
Packaged: 2021-02-26 00:27:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,628
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21764500
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/I_AM_THE_LIVING_DEAD/pseuds/I_AM_THE_LIVING_DEAD
Summary: He refused to confess that he once had his eye-socket fractured and used concealer to hide the discoloration surrounding his crimson eye. He denied any accounts of him being screamed at in the late hours of the night. Whenever he returned to the bar with a limp in his step, it made his comrades wonder what he did in his spare time; none of them knew of the bruises and cuts behind Father’s comforting, yet sickening hold.That is, until he came home at 2:00 in the morning with glass embedded in his right cheek and temple.
Relationships: Dabi/Shigaraki Tomura | Shimura Tenko, Past Shigaraki Tomura | Shimura Tenko/Original Male Character(s)
Comments: 7
Kudos: 147





	Tears When They Dry

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for all the comments, kudos, and bookmarks! They are very much appreciated, and all of you are awesome! And, a special thank you to Fallen_Seraphina. You've been with me since my first story, and I appreciate it so much.

He refused to confess that he once had his eye-socket fractured and used concealer to hide the discoloration surrounding his crimson eye. He denied any accounts of him being screamed at in the late hours of the night. Whenever he returned to the bar with a limp in his step, it made his comrades wonder what he did in his spare time; none of them knew of the bruises and cuts behind Father’s comforting, yet sickening hold. 

That is, until he came home at 2:00 in the morning with glass embedded in his right cheek and temple. 

Dragging himself up the stairs was a challenge, and when he made it to the top, his lungs were feeling strained and his face was burning, the pieces of glass that varied in sizes digging into his facial tissue. Stumbling through the doorway, he went straight for the freezer underneath the bar, grabbing an icepack. Clutching it against his bruised side, his next priority now was covering this mess up. 

As he exited the bar to head to the bathroom, he slammed into something, and when he realized it was a person in his peripheral vision, he instinctively lurched back, deadly hands trembling. Ocean irises stared down at him, and his second-in-command, a mystery man by the name of “Dabi”, said, “Woah creep, the hell are you doing?” 

Tomura didn’t respond, and instead tried to push past the older man, but Dabi blocked his way. His eyes widened ever so slightly when he saw Tomura’s face, because one, he had never seen it before, and two, the right side of his face was battered and cut. Dabi flinched internally; this scene was all too familiar, only he had seen these injuries on someone else. 

“The hell happened to you?”, the patchwork man questioned, gaze flitting over Tomura’s multitude of scars and overgrown, pastel-blue hair and beauty mark on his chin. “None of your goddamn business. Fuck off”, Tomura slurred, finally sliding past the other and tripping into the bathroom. 

He yanked open the medicine cabinet and snatched the first-aid kit, sitting on the frigid tile floor to begin his work. He pulled out large bandages, tweezers, rubbing alcohol, tissues, and a portable mirror, propping it up to examine the damage. Fuck, he looked more like hell than usual. The only injury he had on his left side was a black eye that ached like hell, but the right was littered with beer bottle remains. 

Setting the icepack down, he took the tweezers and carefully placed them near a piece in his cheekbone, but then, his hand started shaking. Cursing at himself, he tried to steady his hold, but couldn’t do it. His vision started to blur, and shame consumed him when he realized he was crying. 

How pathetic could he get? 

Suddenly, Dabi appeared in the doorway, and scoffed at what his leader was doing. “Why’re you doing that yourself? You’re gonna fuck it up; your hand is shaking like hell.” “Leave me alone”, Tomura grit out, automatically hiding his face with his sleeve, not wanting the pyromaniac to see his tears. But, he was guessing the other had already seen them, because he walked in and sat across from Tomura. 

Before the smaller man could protest, Dabi took the tweezers from him, and motioned for him to come closer. Tomura shook his head, stuttering, “N-no. Get out.” The patchwork man gave him an irritated expression, and said firmly, “You’ve got fucking glass in your face, and I don’t feel like watching you get an infection. Get over here.” 

Once again, Tomura refused. Dabi’s tone frightened him, and he shifted away until his back hit the wall of the bathtub. He sniffled and continued to shake his head, tears rushing down his pale face. Dabi frowned, staples dipping inwards at the action, and he sighed. It was obvious that Tomura had been through something traumatic tonight, so he forced himself to use a gentler tone. 

“Mophead, I’m not gonna hurt you. If I do, you have my permission to kill me. Just let me do this”, Dabi reasoned, and after a minute of tense silence, Tomura slowly moved towards his comrade, like an abused dog being offered a treat by a stranger. Cautious, yet silently desperate for help. 

He asked Tomura to tilt his head, and warned him, “I’m gonna have to touch your face.” Tomura swallowed audibly, and mumbled, “Whatever. Just do it.” Dabi placed two fingers around the biggest cut, and expertly removed the largest shard with the tweezers. The muscle twitched in response, and Tomura whimpered, blood drizzling down his jawline. Dabi wiped it off with a tissue and dabbed rubbing alcohol on the cut. It burned at first, but eventually made it feel cool. 

The entire process took around twenty minutes, with Tomura growing accustomed to it with each removal. But, Dabi struggled to get the one embedded in Tomura’s temple out, and he said, “This is gonna hurt.” Tomura screwed his eyes shut, and nearly yelped when the glass was pried out. The only upside was that it was the last one. 

As Dabi applied disinfectant to the wounds, he asked surprisingly softly, “You wanna tell me what bar-fight you got into to end up like this?” His leader hesitated, before whispering, “It wasn’t a bar-fight.” His voice shook at the end, and Dabi, in an instant, understood what happened. 

“I’ve noticed that you never show your face. Is it ‘cause you come back with shit like this?”, the older male inquired, beginning to pat bandages onto the cuts. 

No response. 

Dabi took a different approach. “If you tell me who this guy is, I can go burn him up”, he offered, hoping to get a snarky response. Instead, Tomura’s chapped lips quivered, and he lowered his head, his unkept hair obscuring his face. But, it was obvious by his stuttering breaths that he was crying again. 

“I don’t understand what I did wrong”, he sniffled, and then, the gates opened, and everything flooded out. “I guess I’ve always had bad judgement when it comes to guys. My first boyfriend fucked me when I was thirteen and he was eighteen. I didn’t really wanna do it, but I didn’t wanna die either. He left because he didn’t think I felt good. The next one had mental problems, and kept chasing me with a belt; that’s when I started covering my face all the time, because he hit me in the eye and fractured my socket. After him was the first alcoholic, and he was fucking crazy…” 

He trailed off for a moment, before releasing a laugh so humorless and broken that Dabi winced. “…He broke one of my ribs, but I told Kurogiri that I fell. I think Sensei knew who did it, but he believed that I could figure it out on my own. Anyway, that guy tried to stab me once in my sleep; I think he had a blood kink. Worse than Toga’s. Then, there’s…there’s t-this guy.” He pointed to his wounds. 

“He doesn’t like that I have other priorities aside from him. He thinks I should live under him; obey him. I…I don’t know why I stayed with him, b-but he left me after hitting me…” Tomura had kept this inside so long that now, the kettle was boiling over, on the verge of exploding, and he was sobbing by the end. 

Dabi’s shoulders tensed. This reminded him of Rei. The number of times she used makeup to hide her bruises was uncountable. The multiple occasions where he heard her crying or screaming were resurfacing. 

Overwhelmed, he grabbed Tomura’s shoulders, and pulled him into a hug. Wrapping his muscular arms around the thinner frame, he held Tomura tightly against him, mindful of the bruises on his hip. He slowly carded his fingers through Tomura’s hair, and kicked the door closed in case anyone came home. This was private. 

Tomura snapped. He sobbed and he wailed and he screamed, but despite him doing so right in Dabi’s ear, said man didn’t mind. He let Tomura cling to him and ramble about how he should never have dealt with all this bullshit. He listened to Tomura cry about all the times he was smacked and slammed into walls and thrown onto mattresses without his full consent. 

There was a lot of emotional baggage, and many physical reminders. 

By the time Tomura was done, he was absolutely exhausted, and he muttered, “I’m sorry.” Dabi furrowed his brow, pulling away a little so they could make eye contact. “Why the hell are you apologizing? None of that shit is your fault. You didn’t ask to be hit. You didn’t ask to be yelled at. I…I dealt with similar shit as a kid, so I know how you feel, but just…how about you just stick with me and the League now? I know I’ve been an asshole, but I didn’t…fuck, I didn’t know you were going through that. So, I’m sorry, Tomura. If I was there, I woulda stopped him.” 

Tomura stared at him for a minute or two, as if deciding how to proceed. Eventually, he rasped, “Can you stay with me tonight?” It was an uncharacteristic question, but Dabi gave the other his signature smirk. “Sure. Come here”, he invited, and Tomura moved back into that warm embrace, resting the good side of his face on Dabi’s chest, soothed by the rhythmic beat of his heart. 

Funny that on the same night that he was discarded, he was found again. The only difference was that this man treated Tomura like a person, and that, for the young criminal, was everything he ever wanted. 

And now, his tears were dry.


End file.
